@freewritehouse March Madness Chapter 6 ”Let’s Eat”

Pixabay Image

I'm am taking part in March Madness by the @freewritehouse! This is the first attempt from me and I hope I can see it through! I will try. If you would like to play along please check out more here.

Thanks for reading these free writes and I hope to one day edit them all! I am open to constructive criticism.

Word count: 1,625

.......................................................................

Chapter 6
Let's eat

Grant stood there motionless. It was if he was utterly unaware of his surroundings. The people standing around him were just a blur of colors, melting into the backdrop of existence.

The innermost workings of his mind seemed to be functioning. His brain was keeping him upright and there was a small spark of thought, but there was not much else. Grant was choosing not to think, he had turned himself off and was drifting away into outer space. It was a natural reaction for a boy his age in that sort of situation. It was natures response of protecting his sanity, his brain could sense psychological danger was was attempting to defend itself.

Soon he slowly began to drift back to reality. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed something familiar. It became the focal point of his vision but his mind was still in the process of rebooting so he was having difficulty making it out.

It was being to come into focus. There is was. Long, stringy, and glistening in the afternoon sunshine. His thoughts were starting to catch up to his perception now. It was a grey beard.

It had been several months since Grant even though about the one-eyed man with the grey beard. He had been so caught up in being a kid that he pushed aside in his mind, even though the old man was always there hidden in grants subconscious. What was he doing here, he thought? For Grant, at that moment, it didn't really matter to him anyway, he was merely making a mental note of it.

As Grant slowly began to return to reality, he was startled as Father Don's voice spoke out. With his eyesight returning to him he could make out the loving face of his grandfather who had his arms draped around his grandmother, the beard belonged to his grandpa. For a brief moment, Grant felt a flicker of warmth in his heart, but that was immediately shattered once Father Don continued to speak.

”Left behind in this bleak and sinful world she leaves a son, a young boy who loved her and cared for her as any child would care for his mother. They were two souls connected by his birth, graced by blessed Jesus, and destined to face the world together, but sadly our Lord has called Rebbecca home too soon leaving us all behind to mourn her loving soul. More tragically this boy without a mother. Together, she joins our Blessed Virgin Mary to watch over and protect this boy here on earth. Knowing Rebecca, I am certain she has earned a special place at the table of our Lord.”

That was too much for the twelve-year-old boy to handle. He broke down. Tears were streaming down his face and he was completely soaked. Up until this point, he had not allowed himself to accept the fact that his mother was gone. A piece of him had been violently ripped out and destroyed and he could never be whole again.

Thirty people huddled around the casket in the sunny, fresh, fall day. A few leaves had made there way into the cemetery and were fluttering around in the breeze. The lush green grass absorbed the fleeting autumn sun and birds sang out near the graveyard.

Footsteps away from the cemetery gates there was the playground where Grant spent every recess which was located right outside the school where he had to spend the next six years of his life. Every day would be spent knowing his mother lie buried right outside the classroom where he sat. In a few years, he would be taking classes in the classroom where she taught, by her replacement. It might one day be comforting for him to know she was buried so close to him, however, now it terrified him. There was no escaping the pain and he was trying to understand what to do with it and how to process it.

As the priest spoke she could see that reality was hitting her grandson, Ellenor rushed to his side and pulled him in so tightly trying to shelter him from the sick and twisted horror of a world they occupied. At the same instant, she shot a nasty glare at the Priest who she would never forgive for the awful words he spoke at her daughter's funeral.

Catholics always had a way of making people feel bad and worse taking advantage of tragic moments to further their agenda.

The physical emotions were destroying Grant. He was shuttering and roaming snot and tears covered his horrified face. Grant had broken down and he was done. If he had been able to escape his thoughts before, now he had completely shut down.

He was collapsed in his grandmother's arms and it hurt him, even more, knowing she had lost a daughter as well. For Grant, he didn't only suffer the loss for himself, he could feel the pain and hurt of everyone. His mother was so loved and he could not understand how the world could exist without her in it.

For Grant, and everyone else, the moment was an eternity and Ellenor was begging and pleading inside for it to end. Her husband Kurt, Grant’s grandfather, was firmly remaining strong for his broken family.

For him, it would be a selfish act to be sad at that critical moment of there ever shrinking clan. His role as patriarch of the family, was to be stable and predictable so that they could rely on him when he was needed. And now, they needed him more than ever.

Finally, the Priest gave his final blessing and the service was over. It was completely silent as people stood in horror and the young boy suffered openly for himself and for his mother.

Quickly before the wave of sympathetic people came crashing down on Grant, Kurt turned to the young boy and with his hand on his shoulder looked him straight in the eye and said: ”Let's eat!”

With two simple words, his grandfather did more than his grandmothers comfortingembrace could do for him. Kurt had rescued Grant from the situation and he hurried him towards the car parked on a gravel road that ran through the cemetery.

”Kurt! Kurt!” Ellenor called to him. ”Wait, people want to speak with us.”

”El.” they stopped. ”Get a ride with your sister, I'm taking the boy home, we will have plenty of time to talk with people later on.” She could sense the seriousness of his tone even though he had spoken softly to her.

”Okay, honey. I will see you at home. Take care of him will you?”

Grant had been staying with his grandparents since the night of the accident. Even though it was already agreed upon, Grant was having a hard time excepting the fact that this would be his new home. His Grant parents were trying g to make it as easy as possible for him to adapt, but they all knew that it would take some time.

Once back home Granpa Kurt let them into the house. It was really quiet and once there Kurt was now unsure of what to do.

”Hey, buddy...” just asked, ”...are you hungry?” ”No, grandpa. Thanks though.” Grant looked down at the ground. All he wanted was to hug his mom. He would never be able to do that again.

”Grandpa?”

”Yeah, bud?”

”Is mom in heaven?”

Kurt froze. Seconds passed that seemed like minutes. He was searching for the right words to comfort his broken grandson. He couldn't really explain his personal beliefs to him but didn't want to lie to him either.

”Well, Grant, uh. I don't know what to say.”

Kurt took a deep breath.

”If you find comfort in that belief, I would say for now then you should believe it.”

What did I just say? Why didn't you just say yes? Kurt sighed. The situation was so delicate and he knew a moment like this would stay with Grant forever. These were the moments that make or break a child. He was working his best to say the right things.

”That's why I asked Grandpa, I don't believe on heaven or hell.”

Surprisingly Grant seemed to be relaxing a little bit. The discussion was making him feel a little better.

”Oh,” Kurt said, ”What do you believe then?”

Kurt was really shocked. He couldn't believe that this young boy, a Catholic schoolboy, was saying that he didn't believe in heaven or hell. How did he get such a belief? To Kurt's knowledge, Grant had never spoken like this before. Every time at mass Grant always seemed content and he sang along. Maybe I have more effect on the boy than I thought, Kurt wondered.

”I don't know grandpa. I just know that it's not right. I don't think the Bible is true. Well, I don't think the Bible is my truth.”

This was getting a little out of hand for Kurk, after all, he was too was mourning the loss of his daughter and for him, he wanted to have a discussion like this once they both had a clear mind. They were both too exhausted to try and make sense of the universe. Kurt just wanted to share the moment with Grant and just be there for him.

”You know what buddy? How about we drink a couple of sodas and sit down on the couch and watch whatever you want on tv.”

Grant could sense his grandpa was getting overwhelmed and so was he. Maybe it would be nice to just sit and stare at the tv for a while. He didn't feel like doing much of anything else.

Posted using Partiko iOS